


Falling, With Eyes Wide Open

by sunflowerparker



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), peter parker - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Fluff, Minor Injuries, Near Death Experiences, No Actual Character Death, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28960179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerparker/pseuds/sunflowerparker
Summary: You start to lose hope when you chicken out on an opportunity to meet your soulmate for the first time. Fate has other plans, and an unfortunate event turns out to be a blessing in disguise as a certain superhero comes to the rescue.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Reader, Peter Parker/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 79





	Falling, With Eyes Wide Open

The first time you discovered who your soulmate was you were wide awake.

You see, in a world where you shared your soulmate’s dreams, it was not often that you experienced exhilarating dreams up until a few years ago. At first, the change started off violent — chasing robbers, being pursued by a mechanical human-like bird, buried under a crumbled building, a shifting elemental creature appearing around every corner.

Fear wielded a tight grip on your mind each time you closed your eyes, your soulmate’s horrific visions overpowering any pleasant image that might pass through your head. Every morning you would wake up in a cold sweat, pulse racing, hands shaking.

And then there were dreams where you were falling — and then soaring.

It was such a hard concept to grasp at first, not understanding how serene it felt to have the wind fly through your hair, a thin, white rope swinging you from building to building across the wondrous city of New York. You flew like a bird, yet traveled like a lemur through the Amazon forest. To say it was liberating would be an understatement. The way panic evaded you as your body dropped hundreds of feet from the tops of buildings only to save itself at the last second in a supernatural-like manner was thrilling.

One morning, after a particularly vivid and intense dream, you shuffled into the living room of your apartment. Your body was sore, the thrashing in your bed from the nightmares ever prevalent in your achy muscles. Massaging at your shoulder, you rolled the limb around in a feeble attempt to alleviate some of the discomfort.

Usually you would pass the morning hours with your roommate, but ever since she discovered her soulmate, there were not many mornings you woke to find her around your shared place. So you plopped down on the sofa and turned on the television, groaning as you flicked through the channels to find nothing but the headline – Breaking News: Spider-man Saves NYC from Deadly Monster.

You sighed, leaning back against the couch cushion and reluctantly settling to watch the news, something you never felt the need to do. The world was bad enough in your own bubble; there was no sense in adding to your troubles by watching the terrors of the world around you.

The sounds of the news anchorman droned on and on about the upcoming weather, and you rolled your eyes as he predicted yet another bleak winter full of snow storms and freezing rain. But then the report switched over to live footage from the night before. And as the screen replayed the videos captured by random bystanders, you sat straight up attentively and gobsmacked.

There he was — your soulmate. Swinging from building to building just like in your dreams. The footage was blurry, but clear enough to decipher that that was exactly what you dreamed about last night. And now it was replaying in front of you on the television screen as a real life current event.

Why you hadn’t thought about the practicalities of Spider-man’s travel, you could not be sure. You had never bothered to look into it as the story was fairly simple — he had powers, he saved people, New York City stayed safe. That was the beginning and end of your previous interest. But now, as you sat in your living room with your mouth hung wide open, you could smack yourself in the face for being so blind and stupid.

Of course Spider-man shot webs and used them to swing across town. Of course Spider-man battled strange creatures and pursued criminals. Of course his dreams would reflect those living nightmares he experienced on a daily basis.

But, fuck. Who would believe you?

You? Spider-man’s soulmate?

Psh, please.

The evidence in front of you was quite clear. There was no conceivable way that your soulmate could be anyone else other than New York’s own friendly neighborhood Spider-man.

Fuck, you knew who your soulmate was.

Now what?

You inhaled deeply, puffing your cheeks out as you released the air. What you were going to do with this new found information, you had no idea. But one thing was for certain — you could never tell anyone. Judging by the vast amount of enemy-like persons and monsters in your dreams, Spider-man had his rivals and lots of them. It was probably for the best to keep your mouth shut. And now you had a secret.

———————

The sky gradually darkened as you walked home from a night class, the glowing sun slipping behind glimpses of the horizon clouded by towering buildings. You sauntered down the dimly illuminated sidewalk, the soft orange glow from the street lamps lighting your path, your hands stuffed into the front pocket of your hoodie sporting your school’s logo. While there was music blasting through your earbuds, your mind focused anywhere but the melody playing from your phone. Weeks passed since your realization, and your heart thumped wildly in your chest each morning with your eyes glued to the news station, watching, waiting, ensuring that your soulmate was safe even though you knew he was at least alive as he transmitted his dreams to you during the night.

But this morning, you did not receive closure. Your dream consisted of a fierce blow to your, well his, stomach, ending as soon as your back slammed against a brick wall. You woke up full of worry and anxious anticipation that something terrible had happened to him. There was no report on the news, probably meaning the villain flew under the radar of local police, giving you a sliver of hope that they had not found Spider-man’s body abandoned and severely wounded in an alleyway.

Lost in thought, your peripheral vision caught a glimpse of a blur of red rushing by on your left. It startled you, and you ripped out an earbud from your ear to be on a closer lookout, ready to attack at a moment’s notice with your …. textbooks?

Whatever, it would have to do.

You scanned the area only to find harmless people going about their own business, no one else on high-alert. Your heart pounded in your chest, but you chalked it up to your imagination, turning back around and reaching up to place your earbud back into your ear. You readjusted the strap of your backpack on your shoulder when you ran into something hard with a thud.

Stumbling back, you started to fall, your hands instinctively reaching behind you to brace for impact against the cold concrete. The next thing you knew, you were suspended in the air by a rope — a white rope — sticking to your shirt. Your hands grasped the sticky string, catching you from falling.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry,” he squealed, voice more high-pitched than you imagined.

He cleared his throat, almost as if he was conscious of how shrill his exclamation blurted out. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he confessed in a much more steady tone.

Tugging on the rope, Spider-man pulled you upright on your feet, holding onto your shoulders to balance you. You were face to face with your soulmate, his hands resting on your body, his webs slowly dissolving on the ground between you. Words evaded you as his lenses widened and narrowed to focus on your face, scanning you for obvious signs of injury.

Or a brain, you thought. Speak, Y/N, speak.

“Well, um,” he started. “If you’re alright, I’d like to walk with you until we reach your building.” He motioned behind you. “There were a couple of men following you, and I just didn’t get the best feeling from them.”

“Oh,” you managed to squeak. “Um, yeah. That’s fine.”

His lenses widened, and though you couldn’t see his face through the mask, you could tell he was smiling back at you. “Cool. I’m P-“ He cleared his throat, feigning a cough. “I’m Spider-man by the way.”

You giggled at his slip-up, and your heart fluttered at the prospect of knowing his name. “Nice to meet you, Spider-man.”

You removed both of your earbuds from your ears, pausing your music and shoving your phone into your backpack. “Thanks by the way.” You flashed him a timid smile. “I didn’t even notice someone was following me.”

Looking behind you, you nervously checked to see if the strange men were still in pursuit, but the street was empty behind you.

“Don’t worry, they usually back off when they see me,” he boasted proudly, pointing to himself.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. His comment might have seemed arrogant, but you could sense that there was not a drop of vanity in the boy’s body by the way he carried himself. There was no air of smugness or anything of the like – just a superhero performing his duties. You heart swelled with pride seeing him “in action” first hand. And it finally answered your lingering question of why – why would he continue to put himself through living hell that causes unthinkable nightmares? Now you understood.

“So, um, NYU, huh?” Spider-man asked, scratching at the back of his neck.

“Yeah,” you sighed, looking down at your hoodie. “I didn’t get into my dream school.”

“Oh.” He hesitated, but then asked quietly, “What was your dream school?”

“MIT.”

“No way! That was my dream school too. I got accepted and everything, but-” he motioned to his suit- “duty calls.”

Your heart panged with jealousy. So he was smart too, you thought. Intelligent enough to actually be accepted to one of the most prestigious universities in the world. You shook your head at yourself for even thinking that way, looking up at his white eyes which were trained on you. “Lucky me.”

You meant it genuinely, but you were almost certain he caught on to the hint of jealousy in your tone. He chuckled nervously as a comfortable silence fell over the two of you.

“Well,” you sighed as you approached your apartment. “This is my stop.”

Spider-man stopped at the door to the building and gave you a silly salute and wished you a good night before shooting his web to the top floor of your apartment building, and swinging off into the night sky.

“Wow,” you mumbled to yourself, dumbfounded. “I just met my soulmate.”

You treaded up the stairs to your apartment, your backpack seemingly growing heavier each floor you climbed. When you reached your floor, you walked down the short hallway to your door, pulling out the key and slotting it into the lock. Upon walking in, you slumped your bag off your shoulders, tossing it into the corner. You slid off your shoes, leaving them by the entryway before padding into the apartment.

You swiped your hands over your face in exasperation. You met your soulmate and did not even say a word.

How stupid could you be?

When were you going to get another chance like that one to meet Spider-man?

He practically fell right into your lap, or you into him.

You sighed. At least you knew for certain he was safe, your apprehension following you around since this morning finally dissipated.

Walking into the bathroom, you leaned over the sink. Your mind was spinning. You could have been seriously injured from those men following you, but you were saved – by your soulmate of all people. That was definitely not something that happened every day.

A grin spread across your face as you recalled the sound of his voice. It sounded like home, and it planted an indescribable sense of peace over you. You hoped you would never forget it, replaying the words he spoke to you over and over again.

Splashing some cold water on your face, you cleaned yourself up, getting ready for bed. As you climbed into bed after a warm shower, you glanced out your bedroom window, scanning the tops of the buildings for a blur of red. When you had stared long enough, you settled under the duvet, laying on your back facing the ceiling. And when you finally closed your eyes, sleep taking over your person, your dream played in your mind.

———————

Peter’s brows furrowed as he tossed in the bed. His fists clenched the blankets, balling the fabric up in anxious anticipation. He was waiting — oh so patiently — to see your face. Lately, your dreams overpowered his own, pushing those horrific recounts of the events that transpired on the streets out of his mind, and for that, he was truly grateful.

Ever since Peter slipped on the Spider-man mask, he no longer shared your dreams, his own taking precedence over your usual sweet fantasies. He missed them dearly. Especially the one of you frolicking in a field of daisies. You always picked the tallest one, tucking the little white flower behind your ear. It was his favorite dream because he could feel how happy you were with the sun beaming down on your warm skin, the skip in your step prompted his heart to do its own skip in his chest.

All of that washed away about four years ago when he traded innocent Peter Parker for the spidey suit. Nothing had been the same since.

Laying in his bed now as he struggled to direct your dream — though he knew his efforts were fruitless — there was nothing he could do as he witnessed the repetitive dream that haunted your mind since the day he met you. And the worst part was, he didn’t know even who you were. Peter walked so many people home late at night, he lost track. Every new face blurred with the next one.

It freaked him out at first to see himself from someone else’s perspective. It took him a minute to interpret what was happening, the surreal feeling of witnessing his own movements reminded him of Mysterio’s tricks, but there was no fear after he popped up in front of you, bringing Peter to the realization that he was watching your dream for once.

The vision transpired the same way every time. He frightened you, and you almost fell. He caught you — that part Peter did remember. But then he walked you home in a part of town he did not recognize, and you disappeared into your apartment, standing in the bathroom in front of the mirror, but you never ever looked up.

Peter had been tortured plenty of times, but he had never experienced a torture quite like this. He was so close every night to seeing your face, finding out your identity. But every night, without fail, you woke up before you viewed your reflection, leaving Peter frustrated beyond belief.

How could you not have said anything that night you met? It was nearly impossible for you to not know who he was with the dreams that plagued his slumber.

Were you scared of him?

Maybe he made a bad first impression?

Or perhaps you didn’t find him attractive even though you could not see his face through his mask…

Whatever the reason was, Peter wanted to confront you about it. It was agonizing waiting for you — his soulmate for fuck’s sake. He wanted you, needed you, by his side, his tiny apartment empty and lonely. Ned and MJ had both found theirs already, leaving him the only one left out of his friends. A soulmate is what he needed to come home to — clean his wounds, comfort him, be his shoulder to cry on, live life with. Was that too much to ask for?

Perhaps you were not ready for a commitment like that. But Peter would understand, he wouldn’t push or pry – just be there for you like he was there for you that fateful night. Whatever it took and as long as it took, he would endure it for you.

When his eyes shot open with the light of the day peering in through the window to his bedroom, chest rising and falling in defeat, Peter sat straight up in his bed and tore his fingers through his hair. Then he swore an oath to himself. He vowed to find you.

Later that afternoon, Peter slung his backpack over his shoulder, walking off to take a physics exam. His Spider-man duties had kept him out late last night, and though he hardly had time to study, he felt fairly confident about the material, the subject always came so naturally to him anyways. Upon wandering into the lecture hall, he grabbed a test from his professor, making his way to a chair and settling in to begin.

About halfway through the allotted time, an image popped into his head. Peter smiled to himself — you never napped. And here you were dreaming while he took an important exam. Perhaps a bit inconvenient, but nevertheless, it put an undeniable grin on his face.

Being awake while your soulmate dreamed was a lot like having music playing while you were trying to read. You could focus on either one and tune out the other, but it was practically impossible to aim attention at both. Some people mastered the duality of focusing on one’s surroundings while also watching their soulmate’s visions, namely the ones whose soulmates live in different time zones and distant countries. But Peter never had to deal with the phenomenon before now, so he was far from prepared.

He poked his tongue out in concentration, a feeble attempt to redirect his attention to the page in front of him. Physics was his best subject, but today, with the pure, soothing image of watching himself hold his soulmate’s hand with giddy excitement, how to solve thermodynamic equations flew out the window. How could he focus when his soulmate was dreaming about him?

Peter placed his pencil on his desk, staring blankly at the page, allowing himself to indulge — just for a minute — for he really did not want to fail the exam.

When you woke up, Peter had a feeling more time than a minute had elapsed, but he could hardly care. The image your brain conjured of the two of you was so incredibly sweet and lovely that Peter even felt disappointed it ended so soon. With a slight frown on his face, he picked up his pencil, rushing through the rest of the test.

He was the last one out of the lecture hall, and his professor cast him an inquisitive expression with a quirked eyebrow. Peter was almost always the first one done.

With a shrug of his shoulder, he lied, “I kept second-guessing the equation for number 6.”

Without even waiting for the professor’s response, Peter skipped gleefully out of the room, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he replayed the vision from earlier. How desperately he wanted it to become a reality. He only wished you felt the same way.

A loud bang pulled him from his thoughts, and Peter frantically looked around for the source of the noise. The screams came next, and the hairs on Peter’s arms stood at attention as his spidey senses kicked in, honing in on the exact location of the distressing noise.

Sprinting behind a pillar outside of the science building, he quickly changed into his suit, leaving his backpack abandoned to be picked up later. Peter swung into action, making it across campus in no time. And the sight before him had his jaw dropping. The support beam of a pedestrian bridge that students use to cross a busy road had been crashed into by a huge truck, the bridge full of students quickly crumbling beneath their feet.

————————————

When you walked to class this afternoon, the last thing on your mind was the possibility of dying. You experienced the sweetest dream of Spider-Man, his warm hand in yours strolling through the streets of New York. He was proud to have you by his side, you could sense it in the way he squeezed your hand when friendly strangers waved at him.

You were about to be late for class as you had not intended to fall asleep. Deciding to take a short cut instead of enjoying the walk from your apartment to the other side of campus, you found yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The sound of tires screeching pierced the air. Then a deafening crash shook the pedestrian bridge you were walking over. Clinging on to the side railing, you watched in horror as pieces of the concrete crumbled, the support beams damaged from the impact of the truck.

A huge chunk in the middle of the walkway fell, and you along with other students backed away from the site immediately only to be stopped by the bridge sinking on the other side as well. You were trapped. Your hands started to slip on the railing as sweat collected on the palms of your hands. You frantically looked around at the faces nearest you – the thought that they might be the last people you see before your life as you know it came to an abrupt end ringing through your mind.

The concrete slipped even more, and you braced for the whole thing to fall to the earth as you watched a cyclist’s bike plummet over the edge.

But then a blur.

A blur of red, just like the one you witnessed weeks ago. You could not believe your eyes.

Spider-man swung in out of nowhere, planting himself on top of the railing, straddling it. His white eyes were wide as he cast webs along the remaining bridge, trying to stabilize it. His efforts were futile, the concrete crumbling faster than he could fix it. Glancing around hastily, he assessed the situation.

“It’s safe on the other side!” he called out.

Without further warning, Spider-man shot webs at people, one by one pulling them across the collapsed portion over to safety. You were the farthest away from him, and the last to be saved. But just as his web stuck to your shirt, the bridge gave out completely, and his web detached from your shirt as you dropped to the ground below.

This fall differed from the ones in your dreams where there was no fear, no alarming expectation to crash into the solid ground below. Your eyes widened as you lost sight of Spider-man, his red mask the last part you saw of him as you dropped over the edge.

A sole thought crossed your mind – would he ever know it was you?

Would he know you were gone when your dreams never once entered his mind again?

Would he grow to love someone else after years of fruitless searching?

You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply, preparing for the worst.

You did not even see the web that saved your life as it grabbed a hold of your body at the last second. When you finally opened your eyes, you were swinging – suspended in the air by the very same rope used to catch you the last time you almost fell. Chunks of concrete plummeted around you, but you were safe. Spider-man stood on top of the bridge still, his head hung in weariness, emotionally spent at the events that transpired. 

Carefully, he hoisted you up, grabbing your hand when you were close enough to bring your dangling body to steady ground.

———————

You stumbled as Peter lifted you from the edge, his heart racing at the thought that he almost did not save you in time. His hands instinctively reached out for your shoulders, steadying you.

“Whoah, are you alr-”

He stopped himself.

Why did you look so familiar?

Lost in thought, Peter stood frozen in place as you walked with trembling limbs over to where it was safe. His foot slipped behind him, the remnant of the concrete crumbling in small pieces. Peter walked away from the edge towards the crowd of bystanders gathered around. There were people quivering in shock and people cheering in relief, but all he could focus on was you.

As Peter approached you slowly, you met his eyes. God, your eyes were beautiful – even swimming with tears of gratefulness and despair. When he reached you, your reaction confirmed his suspicion.

“Maybe we should stop meeting like this,” you whispered, a timid smile playing on your lips.

You giggled when Peter’s lenses widened. Fuck, even your giggle was intoxicating. And he couldn’t help but recognize your voice. The mere sound of it had Peter feeling like he was floating on a cloud.

He started to lift his mask off in an absentminded haze, too fixated on the gorgeous girl in front of him. But you stopped him, reaching out and pulling his mask back down over his chin.

“What are you doing?” you whisper-screamed at him, glancing around frantically. “Not here. Are you crazy?”

Your eyes went even wider, and your eyebrows quirked in a way that had Peter swooning. He chuckled breathlessly, looking around and realizing that you were right. He would have to wait.

“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help it.” He stepped closer to you, completely enraptured by you, reaching out and holding one of your hands in his gloved ones. “It’s you. It’s really you.”

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear nodding your head.

Peter dipped down, scooping you up in his arms, and cast a web to a nearby building to swing off to somewhere secluded. You squealed with delight upon being lifted off the ground unexpectedly, and Peter could not help but feel he was already falling in love with you despite not even knowing your name yet. The sound of your giggles echoing in his ear spurred him on, and he swung around the city even more than he originally planned. Securing you to his side, Peter’s arm firmly encircled your waist while your arms wrapped around his neck clinging for dear life even though he would never drop you.

After a few minutes, he landed on top of a skyscraper. You wobbled at first when he placed you gently on the roof, and Peter grabbed onto your shoulders like the night the two of you met for the first time. And the last piece of the puzzle fit in its slot. Your face — your beautiful face. Even more stunning than he imagined. How he had forgotten what you looked like, he had no clue. As the sun began to set beyond the horizon, Peter breathed you in – from head to toe, from tear-stained cheeks to smiling face, from ripped and bloody jeans to wind-blown hair. He had never seen anything quite like you before tonight.

Wait. You didn’t know what he looked like yet.

“Oh. My mask!” Peter fumbled with the fabric, peeling it off his face. A head of soft brown curls sprang out from underneath, a sweet boyish grin plastered to his face. “I-I’m Peter.”

“Peter,” you repeated under your breath. The way his name rolled off your tongue had Peter blushing in no time. He heard you loud and clear with his spidey senses, and he chuckled softly at the idea that he would have to share all about the practicalities of how his powers worked and how you would have to keep his name a secret.

Peter crumbled his mask in his hands, wiping the sweat from off his palms as he waited for your name.

You cleared your throat, your eyes scanning Peter’s face still. “I’m- I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He repeated in the same dream-like state you were just in, the hairs on his arms standing up at the mere sound of your name.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, but your face-splitting smile pulled it free as you beamed at your handsome soulmate. “You have the worst dreams, you know?”

He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, um,” he holds up his mask. “Part of the job. Sorry about that.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but I still feel bad. You have to relive it all too.”

You reached out to his face slowly, caressing a small cut by his eyebrow. “Yeah, but I’m not the one living it first hand.” Peter winced when your finger swiped over it lightly. “Let me clean you up?”

Your eyes swam with genuine concern. His heart thumped wildly. This is what he wanted all along, and it was finally coming to fruition.

Nodding fervently, Peter looked out over the cityscape to gather his bearings. “Um, yeah. My place is that way.” He pointed towards Queens.

As you shook your head in disbelief, you asked, “How do you not get lost all the time?”

“Oh trust me, I do.”

———————

Even with the cold wind pelting your face, there was an unmistakable smile on your lips. As Peter stepped off the ledge of the building, your heart rate sky-rocketed. While he swung you around the city towards his apartment in Queens, all you could think about was seeing your dreams become a reality. Your soulmate, in all his glory, was so amazing and truly a dream come true.

He was handsome and funny, charming and silly. You could not have asked the universe to pick a better match for you. And as Peter’s arms wrapped securely around your waist, the wind rushing through your hair, you cursed yourself for not telling him the first night you two met. But what was done, was done. All that mattered was that now he knew. Now you could start your life with your soulmate.

When Peter landed on the fire escape, he had to practically pry your fingers from the grip on his shoulders. “You know I would never drop you, right?” he asked, the furrow in his brow evident through his mask.

“Of course I know that. It’s just not everyday that I go jumping off of buildings in someone’s arms,” you reassured him.

“That’s true. I guess I forget about that sometimes.”

Peter opened the window to his apartment, slipping inside. He extended his hand to you once through the window and assisted you through afterwards. As soon as you were both inside, Peter shut the window behind you, locking it.

“Do you know how to use a door?” you joked as you scanned the contents of his room.

Peter chuckled. “I think the doorman would have a heart attack if he saw Spider-man casually walking through the lobby.”

“You’re probably right. I know I would have.”

“But not the night we met?” he dared to ask.

You glanced down at your feet, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “I, um, I don’t really know why I didn’t say anything. I guess I was so in shock that I could hardly even process it all.” When you met his eyes, they were fixed on you, swimming with understanding. “I regretted it though. I wished every night that I had just opened my mouth.”

Reaching out, Peter rubbed your upper arm soothingly. “It’s alright. We found each other anyway.”

The smile of his face was contagious, spreading to your own face as the two of you stood close to each other. When Peter’s eyes flitted down to your ripped jeans, his brows pinched. “I have a first aid kit in the bathroom. We can get you cleaned up in there.”

You nodded and followed him into the bathroom where he patted the counter, indicating he wanted you to sit there. Obliging, you hopped up, your legs dangling as he retrieved the kit from under the sink. Peter pulled out some gauze and hydrogen peroxide, setting it on the counter.

“This might sting a bit,” he warned, dabbing the medicine and gauze gently around the cut on your knee.

The wound wasn’t deep, but he was right – it did sting. You winced when he put pressure on the injury with fresh gauze, holding it there until it stopped bleeding.

“There.” Peter threw the stuff away in the waste bin. “All done.”

“Thank you, Pete,” you smiled, laughing when his eyes widened at the nickname. “Your turn now.”

Patting the place where you had just sat, Peter jumped onto the counter, watching you closely as you stood in between his parted legs, reaching up to tend to the cut above his eye. You glanced over to see his doe eyes, like cups of sweet mocha, staring at you.

“What?” you questioned nervously with a laugh. His stare was intense, and though it seemed innocent, it was starting to make you feel a tad self-conscious.

“You’re just- you’re very pretty,” he confessed quietly, eyes never leaving your face.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, so you diverted your attention back to the cut to hide your flustered state. “Well you’re pretty yourself.”

Peter’s ears turned a shade of bright pink at your words, and it put you at ease knowing he felt the same way. “Thanks,” he mumbled shyly.

“All done,” you announced, stepping back a bit to examine your work.

When Peter hopped off the counter, he was inches away from your face. There was a moment when it felt like time stood completely still as you took in his features. His eyes darted to the curve of your lip as he licked his own, and it all but set your heart ablaze.

You looked into his kind eyes, heart racing, hands sweating, and you saw home. Reaching up, you carded your fingers through the curls on the nape of Peter’s neck as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a tender kiss. It left you feeling breathless and at peace all at once.

When you broke apart, he leaned his forehead against yours, heavy breaths leaving both your mouths. Peter cupped your cheek in his hands sweetly, thumbing over the soft skin of your face. “I found you,” he whispered breathlessly. “I finally found you.”


End file.
